Pass This On
by ROGUEFURY
Summary: A huge festival sidetracks the feral brothers from getting to their cabin in Catskills. Stranded at the motel El Monaco, Victor and Logan experience the hippie phenomenon when the beautiful gender-bending Vetty von Vilma catches Victor's eye. Crossover!


**Disclaimer**: I do not own any aspect or character of the Marvel Universe nor elements of the X-Men Origins movieverse, nor the characters or elements of the film Taking Woodstock. This is a crossover fanfic involving two Liev characters from two different movies.

**A/N**: This is a story idea I promised the awesome** the_haust **after she came up with the awesome concept! Basically, we Liev fans love how two polar opposite characters at different ends of the spectrum were both played so effortlessly and wonderfully by Liev Schreiber, so we decided to cross universes and see what would happen if these two got together in some way, shape, or form! So yes, Victor Creed and Vetty von Vilma are crossing paths, and this fic is that scenario incarnated! The title and song included in the story is by a band called The Knife. Hope you enjoy it~!

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**Pass This On**

There wasn't any way they were gonna make it up to the cabin.

Logan looked around at the winding chaos of traffic congestion and the throngs of people milling around past the cars. Loud music, laughter, and shouts were coming from all directions, and the feral stood up on the back of the pickup truck and tried to see down the road.

"They just keep comin'," Logan muttered as he slumped on the top of the pickup's cab, folding his arms and huffing.

Turning to shoot Victor a glance, he instead glowered down at his older brother, who was snoring away, undisturbed by the excitement all around them—arms folded, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, and chin tucked against his chest.

"Hey man, we're gonna see if we can get somethin' to eat," Logan looked over his shoulder and watched as the couple that had let him and Victor hitch a ride in the back of their pickup truck got out of the truck and walked around to head to the ratty-looking motel across from the road. "I dunno if we're gonna make it up this road tonight, but you're welcome to tag along with us—"

"Nah, we've put you guys out enough. Thanks," Logan offered a genuine amicable wave as the couple walked up to the motel and flashed him a peace sign in return. Running his fingers through his windblown hair, Logan turned to glance around. Most of the other motorist had started abandoning their vehicles for shelter and repose at the mini-mecca the motel at the side of the road had clearly become to weary and unhurried travelers.

Sighing, Logan figured he and Victor would have to pool their luck—and little money—to get a place to bed down for the night in the middle of this festival hysteria. They'd been warned about the mass of people heading upstate to the Catskills for some concert, but Victor and he had waved it off, opting to take the long trip up instead of staying in Manhattan, which was more of a hotbed for resentment and outright recrimination from every person, young and old, that saw him and his brother in their Army-issued green fatigues.

"Hey, Vic," Logan nudged his brother's shoulder. "Vic, wake up."

Victor huffed and stretched his back, blinking sleepily up at Logan. "No way we're there already," he grumbled and continued to stretch, arms reaching over his head as a yawn caused him to bare his ferocious fangs.

"Nah, we're not. We're stuck. The traffic's at a standstill. People are getting out of their cars. There's a motel across the road," Logan explained as he grabbed their shared duffle bag and tossed it over the side of the truck before swinging himself over gracefully.

Victor grunted, shooting a look around as he stared at all endless headlights that beamed ahead and behind them for faraway stretches. "There's no way we're gonna find a vacancy, runt. Might as well stay put—" he grumbled before Logan patted his shoulder, forcing Victor to turn around and look in the direction his brother was gesturing at. All sleep fizzled out of the older feral as he and Jimmy watched a group of naked hippies flounce around in the twilight of dusk, with people cheering and music playing around them as they did a series of interpretive dances. Without taking his eyes off the scene, Victor climbed out of the back of the pickup truck and stood next to his brother, who couldn't help the wry smirk pull at his usually scowling lips. "I don't think I've seen that much bush ever…" Victor quipped and began walking, with Jimmy snorting in toe as he flung their duffle bag over his shoulder.

The El Monaco Motel was a vast property that had been commandeered by thousands of people, most squatting in their cars, sharing the communal pool, and giving away food from makeshift stands littered around any free space of grass. Little toe-haired kids ran naked around while their free-love-seeking parents chatted and painted symbols on their bodies as they huddled around radios and fire pits. The place was bustling, with a line circling through cars and obstacles to the front of the reception office.

The brothers looked around, feeling like they stuck out in the middle of the colorful and hippie-induced chaos, while no one really paid them any ill-mind. A group of teens ran past them, but not before one of the girls whirled around with big glossy eyes and a beaming smile as she held up a handful of colorful daisies and wildflowers.

"Far out! You guys match the grass. Here—the daisies wanna be home with you!" she spoke in a stargaze-lulled voice as she slipped a flower into Logan's hair, tucking it behind his ear before pulling off one of the sorted garlands of flowers around her neck to lavish it on Victor before kissing them both on the cheek and darting away, her melodic laughter melting into the sounds around them.

It had been such a quick and surprising encounter than both ferals simply stood rooted in awe and looked at each other with wide eyes. Logan plucked the flower out of his hair and stared at it like it was threatening him silently while Victor snapped the garland off of his neck and tossed it at his brother.

"Where the hell are we? In the Land of Oz?" Victor snorted and grabbed the nearest stoner who passed him. "Hey, you. Where the hell do you go if you wanna get a room?" he groused.

"Aw, man, no rooms left man. No one really cares—just gotta find a space and lie down for the night. Not a big deal," the kid with the long stringy hair mumbled before Victor grunted and let him go.

"Hey, Vic. There's a bar right over there. Maybe we can ask in there?" Logan nudged Victor's arm and gestured with his chin to the bar.

Humming in agreement, Victor adjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder and headed towards the bustling bar with Jimmy at his side.  
The sounds of clapping, cheering, flutes, drums, and maracas grew louder when they stepped into the low-lit bar filled with people. Every inch of space was taken up by dancing bodies and happy people without a care in the world. The understaffed bar was managing to keep up with everyone's drinks and the merriment caused the brothers to wander in deeper into the space to hover over to the bar.

Procuring a free lukewarm beer each, Victor and Logan leaned shoulder-to-shoulder against the bar counter as they watched the excitement.

"So much for a quiet month off," Victor murmured as he nursed his beer. Logan grunted next to him, not minding it one bit, but preoccupied with what they'd be doing in the meantime.

"Hey, man, you Army? You just got back from 'Nam?" a grizzled looking biker dressed in a leather vest, jeans, and nothing else asked Logan as he smiled drunkenly at him. Victor shot the man a cursory glance when James nodded. "Far out. Glad you guys made it back with all your parts. Couple of buddies of mine were drafted; weren't so lucky."

"Yeah, well, we'll be going back in a month. Not so lucky either," Logan offered noncommittally, and fell into chatter with the guy.

Victor exhaled out his nose and looked around the bar, trying to filter all the scents and sounds. Stale sweat, pot, beer, incense, and cigarette smoke wafted in the air along with a few whiffs of soil and pungent musk. People played instruments and chattered along, before the music died down and a microphone protested on at the back of the saloon hall.

"Everybody—" the microphone protested until it was lowered to the right level. A scrawny and awkward looking guy stood on the makeshift stage and people cheered and shouted his name. "Okay, so, El Monaco has a special treat for all you groovy people. She's a beauty, and so is her voice, but don't tread lightly, cuz well, she's not that kind of girl. Without further, um, adieu, my good friend, Vetty von Vilma, singing, 'Pass This On,'—oh, and this is a little song she wrote, so yeah, Vilma!" the guy introduced and clapped before making his way off the stage to join the ranks of the crowd.

Victor had stopped paying attention when the guy started stammering, looking around the room at the groups of girls flouncing around and dancing flirtatiously with anyone who'd walk by and stop. He was tempted to get up and do some prowling of his own—see if maybe he could secure a bed and a girl for the night, but wasn't happy with the pickings. Most looked waifish and frankly, they didn't smell right. He chalked it up to whatever narcotics were being passed around at this thing, but it was also not his scene.

Logan shot him a look. "Want another beer?"

"This tastes like piss," he grumbled before pushing the empty bottle across the bar. "I'll have one if you do," he shrugged and went back to people-watching.

When a half-assed light was shone on the stage, Victor's attention hovered over just in time to see something he'd never seen before take the spotlight in front of the microphone stand.

"Aw, thank you Elliot. You're just too kind. Now, you boys and girls don't be afraid to set the music however you like. It's all for fun, as it should be, okay?" the sultry baritone of the large, muscular, and sassy blond drag queen hummed over the room as she made a dainty curtsy while people clapped for her.

The rhythm and percussion of the drums set the pace, and then the chime of a tambourine joined in, falling into pace as a set of maracas joined in along with a jaunty flute. On the stage, the imposing gender-bender began to swing with the rhythm, a sensual motion of undulating hips, swaying brawny arms, and bending toned legs that kept balance on platform wedge heels. The sea foam green, blue, and turquoise halter top gown was precariously synched to a hairless barrel chest before flaring out after the belted waist. Hairless-but-male sculpted legs were bare while the dress tails swung with the mesmerizing transvestite's motions.

"_I'm in love with your brother __  
__What's his name? __  
__I thought I'd come by __  
__To see him again __  
__When you two danced __  
__Oh what a dance __  
__When you two laughed __  
__Oh what a laugh __  
__Has he mentioned my age love? __  
__Or is he more into young girls with dyed black hair? __  
__I'm in love with your brother __  
__I thought I'd come by_"

Victor watched, riveted as the very male woman belted out the lyrics with a cheeky and smoldering baritone that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He felt eyes on him, so he betrayed a quick look over at Jimmy, who was trying to simultaneous balk at the stage and survey Victor at the same time.

Across the room, Vilma stared under sultry batting eyelashes out at the crowd that watched her perform, eyes scanning the bar and noticing the short-but-muscular man who was looking at her as if she was an anomaly his poor mind couldn't sort out. When the man with the shaggy hair glanced over at the tall and equally muscular man next to him, Vilma's eyes caught the steely blue gaze that was currently captivated on her. A chill ran up her spine, as did a tickle of excitement that throbbed down into her loins.

Shooting the ferocious-looking man a provocative glance, Vilma pursed her lips and concentrated on singing her heart out.

"_I'm in love with your brother __  
__Yes I am __  
__But maybe I shouldn't ask for his name __  
__And you danced __  
__Oh what a dance __  
__And you laughed __  
__Oh what a laugh __  
__Does he know what I do? __  
__And you'll pass this on, wont you? __  
__And if I ask him once what would he say? __  
__Is he willing? __  
__Can he play?_"

Staring back and forth, Logan was thunderstruck to realize the clear attraction between his brother and the very-masculine man impersonating a sassy and coquettish woman. Said drag queen caught his gaze briefly when he sang the part 'And you'll pass this on, wont you?' before going back to eye-fucking his brother.

Logan could smell his brother's burgeoning sexual interest, and it was all he could do to pick up his jaw from the bar top. Victor could feel Jimmy's awestruck reaction, but he really didn't care. He was damned intrigued, and it even surprised him, but he wasn't gonna question it.

Vilma was putting on a show for him now, hips swaying and cocky smile teasing as she beckoned him over, the red of her fingernail gleaming from the light as she gestured with her finger for him to 'come hither.'

When Victor pushed off the bar, Logan stared, jaw clenched and totally floored by the scenario that was playing out in front of him. Never in a million years did he think Victor would be into—well, _that_! And yet here he was, watching his older brother cross through the bar and push past the people to stand at the foot of the stage, where the enigmatic Vilma was statuesquely towering over him on her platform wedges.

"_If I ask him once what would he say? __  
__Is he willing? __  
__Can he play?_"

Vilma felt like a piece of sexy meat from how intense the man's gaze was roving hers. She could feel herself get tantalizingly excited when he confidently cocked his head to the side appreciatively at her. Their blue eyes were trained on each other as Victor shot her a predatory smirk, his tongue teasingly trailing the contours of his teeth before lingering on the peek of a sharp fang.

She could feel her nipples harden at the sight of the man's wicked smirk and searing gaze. Tossing her wavy sandy-blond locks out of her face, she toyed with one of her hoop earrings before trailing her fingertip across her cheekbone and brushing the bottom of her lip, and then twirled her finger around a lock of hair.

"_Does he know what I do? __  
__And you'll pass this on, wont you? __  
__And if I ask him once what would he say? __  
__Is he willing? __  
__Can he play?_"

As she crooned the last bars of the song, Victor slipped his hands in his pockets and raised his brows ruggedly at her, watching as a slight blush heated her cheeks as she sashayed and danced to the melodic rhythm of the acoustic instruments.

Setting the microphone back onto the stand, Vilma craned her shoulders back and shot Victor a challenging-but-sensual look down her nose at him just as he stepped onto the stage in front of her.

From his vantage point at the bar, Logan saw how she stood an inch taller than Victor cuz of her heels, which caused his brother to have to grab the microphone stand and lean it away from them as he said something in her ear.

As quick as the scene occurred, it ended when Victor shot her a biting smirk before leaving her a bit flustered on the stage to walk back through the whistling and catcalling crowd to the bar.

"What was that about?" Logan shot tight-lipped to Victor when the older feral came back to his side.

Victor's boyish lips fought to submerge a leering smirk as he snatched Logan's beer away from him and finished it.

Back on the stage, Vilma recovered her confident mystique and thanked the crowd and performers before proclaiming coquettishly, "And to you, my dear soldier boy, don't let the good looks fool you—I most certainly can play. The question is, can _you_?"

A chorus of _whooes _and whistling rang out as Vilma winked at Victor when he turned to shoot her an amused smirk. Strutting off the stage, Vilma couldn't help fan herself when she ducked out of sight and smiled girlishly at Elliot.

"That was pretty intense," Elliot offered the no-shit observation of the night.

Vilma's eyes were dazzling as they crested from her wide smile. "Oh Elliot, I think he gave me the vapors!" she sing-sung and leaned in to add, "I feel like a teenage girl—butterflies and all!"

"What did he say to you?" Elliot inquired as he looked over the crowd and noticed the intimidating guy was talking to the other shorter intimidating guy.

A blush tinted Vilma's cheekbones as she pressed her boyish lips together and planted her hand on her hip before leaning in and quoting, " 'You don't have to ask. I'll just tell you: I'm willing, and I love to play. Dunno if you can handle my brand of fun, though.'"

"Woah," Elliot replied, an awkward smile quirking his lips. "Are you gonna take him up on the offer?"

Darting a gaze over at the bar and seeing that the two Army boys were still there—the shorter one most likely grilling the suave and rugged beefcake, Vilma murmured, "Oh, we'll see, babe. The night's still young…and I'm feeling fresh and young, and oh-so-sexy."

Meanwhile, Victor finished off yet another beer while Logan tried not to be flustered. It was cute that his little brother was so hung up on the labels of things, so he just let him go on and on. Didn't change the fact that Victor liked what he liked, and wasn't afraid to pursue what caught his eye, even if it wasn't what he'd conventionally go for.

"Are you gonna do something with him—her?" Logan's query caught his attention again.

Pausing to lean his side into the bar and scan back in the direction of the coquettishly alluring woman, Victor gave Logan a slow smile as he shrugged his shoulder and rumbled, "M'not opposed or disposed to anything. One thing though…I'm sure it'd be interesting."

Steely blue eyes caught sight of long-lashed blue ones as they appreciatively surveyed each other from across the room, sensing that the night would promise more if they wanted it to.

And they most definitely did.

**TBC/THE END? MAYBE!**

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**THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REVIEW!**


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